The Ding-A-Ling Ring Strikes Back
by Red Witch
Summary: The Figgis Agency decides to pass the time pursuing some semi-pointless revenge vandalism and theft.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is committing some minor vandalism somewhere. Just something that ran through my tiny little mind.**

 **The Ding A Ling Ring Strikes Back **

It started with most of the members of the Figgis Agency watching television in the bullpen. Ray, Krieger, Pam and Cheryl were simply watching the television and having a drink. And of course, Cheryl was having the occasional sniff of glue.

It was Pam who broke the silence first. "I don't know why they never let Scrappy Doo fight. It would have been hilarious to watch that mutt get his ass kicked."

"Yeah it would make these cartoons so much funnier," Cheryl nodded before taking another sniff of glue.

"A lot funnier," Krieger added. "It would be really funny if they mutated him into a pig. A pig dog! That would be hi-larious."

"I'd watch that," Pam admitted. "A cartoon about a pig dog. Sounds like it has promise."

"Why did they keep that character?" Ray asked. "He's so annoying!"

"Not just annoying," Pam added. "But useless."

"Then I have an agency full of Scrappy Doos," Cyril grumbled as he walked up with Lana.

"Tonight, playing the role of Mallory Archer," Ray quipped.

"Who is conveniently at the hospital watching over Archer," Cheryl added. "Oh wait, that means Cyril is her understudy, isn't he?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Duh!"

"Shouldn't you guys be doing something productive?" Lana asked. " **Anything** productive? Besides keeping Cartoon Network in business."

"Define productive," Krieger asked. "Because there are some mutating mold spores…"

"Oh, for the love of Christ, Krieger!" Cyril shouted. "Do you want black mold in the elevator again?"

Krieger paused. "I take it from your tone the answer is…no?"

"I'm starting to suspect that Archer being in the hospital isn't the **only** reason Mallory didn't come into work today," Lana groaned.

"Me too," Cyril sighed. "Didn't anybody do **anything** productive today?"

"Well," Cheryl paused from her glue fun. "I did download the schematics of Veronica Dean's mansion. And looked at her house on Sky Spy."

"Why…?" Ray raised an eyebrow.

"In case I wanted to sneak over and trash the place! Duh!" Cheryl snapped. "And possibly burn it to the ground."

"Because of what she did to Archer?" Pam asked.

Cheryl paused. "That too."

"We are **not** burning Veronica Deane's house to the ground!" Cyril snapped.

"Although…" Pam thought. "Trashing it does sound like fun."

"What?" Cyril snapped.

"Hey after what that bitch did to us," Pam spoke up. "And all she put us through…I say trashing her place is the least we can do. Because let's face it, we're a little behind on our revenge rampages here."

"Woman does have a point," Ray admitted.

"I could go for a night out," Krieger nodded. "And it would be productive!"

"Very productive," Pam nodded. "And after that why not go to Big Ronnie's for some drinks? I'm pals with the owner. And he owes me an alibi anyway so…"

"So basically, your idea of a productive night is to trash Veronica Deane's mansion and then go to a bar?" Lana asked. "I'm in."

"Wait what?" Cyril did a double take. "You're **for this?"**

"The bitch got me arrested!" Lana snapped. "And almost got my ass back in jail! I want payback for that!"

"And for Archer being in a coma," Pam added.

Lana paused. "That too."

"So what are you planning on doing?" Cyril asked. "Are we just going to vandalize the place?"

Sometime later…

"Apparently, we are," Cyril sighed. He was in Krieger's van in the back with Lana and Cheryl. They were all dressed in black. As was Pam and she was in the driver's seat.

"Think of this as a team building exercise," Pam said cheerfully.

"A team building exercise where we vandalize a house?" Cyril asked. "Actually, that sounds kind of tame compared to our past team building exercises."

"Is part of the exercise putting up with weird smells?" Lana asked. "What is that smell?"

"Whatever Krieger has in that drum back here," Cyril looked behind him. "What is **in** there?"

"Don't worry about it," Pam told them.

"Kind of think I should," Cyril said.

"Believe me," Pam told him. "You shouldn't."

"I can't believe we were able to drive right up the driveway," Lana said.

"Well we did send Ray and Krieger ahead to take care of things and let us through the gate," Pam said. "Between Ray's super speed bionic legs and Krieger's dart gun they should have no problems."

"Now remember to wear gloves in case the cops want to dust for prints," Lana told them as she put some on. "Since we're all in the system by now…"

"You're not my supervisor!" Cheryl snapped. "Oh wait! Duh!" She put some gloves on.

"That does seem like common sense," Pam nodded as she put some gloves on. "Ray's lucky. He only has to remember that for one hand."

Ray ran back using his super speed. Both of his hands were gloved and he was wearing his black turtleneck-hat-breaking in outfit. "I turned off all the security cameras. And the security system. So we're all set there."

"And the guards are neutralized," Krieger grinned as he showed his tranquilizer gun. "It was easy. Just a couple of plainclothes cops in their car. They were half asleep already."

"Did you remember to take out the darts from their necks?" Lana sighed.

"Oh," Krieger blinked. "Good call!" He ran off.

"We also managed to open the doors," Ray said. "Wanna go inside and check it out?"

"Ooh! We could also rob the place!" Cheryl giggled.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Cyril gulped nervously. "What if the police come back?"

"Are you kidding?" Ray said. "The cops already took all the evidence they could find. The staff is long gone. They just put two guys guarding the whole damn mansion."

"And they are going to be out for a long time," Krieger nodded as he returned. "Got the darts."

"Come on! Let's take a look," Pam said.

"I have to admit I am a little curious," Lana said as they got out of the van.

"Oh, what the hell?" Cyril groaned. "What's one more felony?"

Soon the Figgis Agency was walking through the mansion, using flashlights to light their way. "Wow this is some house," Ray said excitedly. "Can you believe it? We're in Veronica Deane's house!"

"Yeah, I can," Lana growled.

"Oh," Ray realized. "I mean…What an old whore! With tacky things! Some of which I would **die** to have!"

"Look at all this fancy crap the bitch has," Pam whistled as she looked around.

"Did you see that foreclosure sign as we came in?" Krieger asked. "She must have been up to her eyeballs in debt before she shot Archer."

"That's why she got into the whole Long Water scam in the first place," Lana told him.

"Guys the master bedroom is this way," Cheryl said. "Follow me!"

Soon they were in an elegant bedroom. "So, this is where the bitch with a thousand backsides used to sleep?" Pam looked around as she turned the light on.

"Yeah and look at what else is in here," Cheryl opened a door. "I saw this on the blueprints I found!"

Inside was a huge organized closet that was as big as a large living room. Filled with racks of clothes, shoes, jewelry and all kinds of accessories. As well as a large lit makeup counter with rows of organized makeup.

"Oh my God!" Pam gasped. "I've dreamed of having a closet like this!"

"Me too," Ray agreed.

"Everything is sorted out…" Lana gasped. "A makeup table. A pocketbook section. A jewelry closet. A shoe section…"

"Yeah but it's so small," Cheryl pouted. "Even my cousin's was bigger than this!"

"Well compared to your cousin and what we found in San Marcos yeah…" Ray said.

"What's this about Cheryl's cousin?" Lana asked.

"Don't ask," Ray sighed. "But it was a lot like the closets of San Marcos."

"Don't want to know anymore," Cyril groaned as the members of the Figgis Agency started going through the closet.

"Look at all this jewelry!" Pam gasped. "So sparkly!"

"Yeah but it doesn't have that real diamond sparkle," Krieger frowned. "A lot of this looks like crystal or cubic zirconia."

"How do you know…?" Lana began. "Never mind. I **don't** want to know."

"Ms. Archer tried to get into the fake diamond business a long time ago," Krieger told her. "It wasn't my fault that the diamonds couldn't pass inspection! I told her I had shoddy equipment!"

"He tells me anyway," Lana rolled her eyes.

"A lot of this stuff is costume jewelry," Cyril realized. "Veronica Deane must have either put the real stuff in a safe, hocked it or took it with her on the lam."

"Still pretty," Pam shrugged as she put a few necklaces in a purse she found. "And this purse is an actual designer purse so…"

"We can't steal Veronica Deane's things!" Cyril protested.

"Oh please!" Cheryl grabbed a purse and put some makeup in it. "How much you want to bet some cop or reporter with sticky fingers grabbed a few souvenirs for himself? Or a few servants who needed some severance pay."

"It looks like some stuff is gone already," Ray looked around. "Like some furniture. And clothes."

"I mean we're already breaking and entering and trashing the place," Cheryl said calmly as she threw a figurine against the wall, smashing it. "Why not take some stuff?"

"It's still stealing," Lana protested.

"Lana," Ray gave her a look. "You do realize throughout our **entire career path** stealing is at least **seventy percent** of what we **do** right?"

"But we're detectives now," Lana pointed out.

"And remind me again what was our **first assignment**?" Ray raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," Lana winced. "Right."

"Yeah," Ray looked at her. "Exactly."

"We have stolen from quite a few people in this town already," Cyril admitted with a sigh. "As well as a few other felonies."

"Okay fine," Lana sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a few small things."

"We can't sell anything we take," Cyril said. "Anything from Veronica Deane is too hot now. We can only steal things we will keep for ourselves."

"Like this pocketbook and cool lipstick!" Cheryl took another one. "Seriously, half of these aren't even opened."

"Does it really matter if it is?" Krieger asked.

"Yes! Ewww!" Cheryl winced. "Old lady germs!"

"Oh…" Krieger looked at the table and pocketed some lipstick that had clearly been used before. The others pretended not to notice.

"Hey I wonder where that giant emerald necklace she had is?" Pam looked around.

"That was put in some bank vault right after the whole clown incident," Cyril told her. "I remember Shapiro saying that."

"So? There's got to be some other jewelry here," Pam shrugged. "Or money or something!"

"We need to go through this entire bedroom," Cheryl said. "I love treasure hunting!"

"This isn't treasure hunting!" Cyril snapped. "This is burglary!"

"Po-tato, po-steal-o!" Cheryl rolled her eyes as they looked through her closet.

"This bathrobe is so me!" Ray put on a pink bathrobe. "Nice!"

"That's a woman's…" Lana began. "Never mind. Anything in my size?"

"Uh no," Cheryl laughed. "You're just too big! Maybe she has some men's clothes lying around?"

"You know…?" Lana looked at her.

"You're too small to wear her clothes!" Ray snapped at Cheryl as he took the bathrobe off.

"Damn it!" Cheryl snapped. "You're right!"

"HA!" Lana scoffed as she looked through the closet. "Damn it all these are too small for me!"

"Me too," Pam grumbled.

"I'm assuming there are no men's clothes," Cyril groaned. "Come on Krieger, Ray. Let's look in the other rooms."

"Awww…" Ray pouted.

"Come on!" Cyril snapped.

"Save me that bathrobe!" Ray pointed before he left.

"It is his color," Pam shrugged as she put the bathrobe in a small pile she was making. "Very flattering."

"God, I hate looting places after the cops and lawyers do," Cheryl grumbled as she looked. "They almost never leave the good stuff. It's like my Aunt Caroline's funeral all over again."

"What the hell…" Lana sighed. "What happened to your Aunt Caroline?"

"Oh, you know," Cheryl waved. "She caught her husband in bed with his mistress and a sheep. She shot all three of them dead and ate the sheep. And of course, she **had** to kill them right in the middle of their bedroom so all their fabulous sheets and cushions were ruined! I mean even if the police didn't take them away for evidence the bloodstains wrecked them beyond repair!"

"That was rather rude of her," Lana said sarcastically.

"I know, right?" Cheryl nodded her head. "Now that could have been forgiven but then she went really crazy!"

"A _Tunt_ going **really crazy?"** Pam raised an eyebrow. "How shocking."

Cheryl went on. "Instead of discreetly burning the bodies and the evidence in the back woods or burying them in the basement like a normal person…She decided to dump the bodies on the front lawn…"

"Of her house?" Lana gasped.

"Not her house," Cheryl groaned. "Her mortal enemy Elizabeth Rosencrantz. Not to be confused with Elizabeth Rosencrantz of the Philadelphia Rosencrantzs. She was from the Texas Rosencrantzs. No relation."

"Is there really a difference?" Pam asked.

"The Philadelphia ones made their fortune in publishing," Cheryl explained. "While the Texas ones made their fortune selling cow based products. You know? Meat, leather, bull heads you stick on walls of steak restaurants. That sort of thing."

"I always wondered where those steak places find those things," Pam said to Lana.

"Told you they didn't kill them themselves," Lana sighed. "But back to your Aunt Caroline. She put the bodies of her dead husband and his mistress on her lawn? Why?"

"To serve as a warning," Cheryl shrugged. "Unfortunately, she did that in the middle of the day. During Mother Rosencrantz's ninetieth birthday party. Gave Mother Rosencrantz a heart attack. And of course, Elizabeth Rosencrantz threw a shit fit about it to the police."

"I do think she might have had good reason," Lana said tactfully. "Since her mother died…"

"Oh she wasn't mad about **that** part," Cheryl said. "She and her mother hated each other. Always insulting and putting each other down. She was mad because the party was ruined. After that day, she was never able to throw a party at her house again."

"I'm guessing the cops had an easy time deducting who was responsible for the crime," Lana said dryly.

"Well if the idiot didn't scream _'I killed these two bastards and I'll do the same to you'_ to the whole neighborhood…" Cheryl snorted. "Anyway, by the time the police got to her house she barricaded it and had moved her family's antique cannons into her living room. And loaded them…"

"Oh, dear God…" Lana winced.

"Let's just say after the shootout property values went **way down** in that neighborhood," Cheryl shrugged. "What was left of it."

"Let's just go back to robbing, shall we?" Lana groaned.

"Good idea," Pam agreed as she grabbed a sheet off of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked.

"Using a sheet as a bag to put all the stuff we're stealing in," Pam said as she did so. "Duh!"

"How do those sheets feel?" Cheryl asked.

"The ones at your hotels are better," Pam shrugged.

"What about the pillows?" Cheryl asked.

"Too damn hard," Pam tested one. "They feel like rocks!"

"That's because she's so old she misses sleeping on rocks," Cheryl snickered. She saw a small vase in the room. "Ooh…Pretty."

She then picked it up, shrugged her shoulders and smashed it against the wall.

"So much for not leaving any clues behind," Lana groaned.

About thirty minutes later the gang met up in front of a door to another room. "Well I got a sack full of good shit!" Pam indicated the sheet filled with stolen goodies. "What did you guys get?"

"Well the good news is that we found four boxes of cereal that are still good so we can have breakfast for a week," Cyril remarked. "And several canned foods that will heat up quite nicely over an open flame if we get kicked out on the street."

"We put what food we could find in the van," Krieger said. "As well as some curtains that will look fabulous in my lab."

"I also found a whole fifty-five cents in the couch cushions," Ray added sarcastically. "So much for Veronica Deane being broke, right?"

"Did you find any booze?" Pam asked.

"No," Cyril sighed. "And believe me, we looked."

"Did you find any drugs?" Pam asked.

"No," Ray said. "Did you?"

"Not even a god damned aspirin," Pam admitted. "And no nudie pics."

"Believe me," Lana sighed. "She looked."

"The clothes don't fit," Cheryl grumbled. "Most of the jewelry is fake and sucks."

"A lot of the china is gaudy as hell," Krieger said.

"Did you break any of it?" Cheryl asked.

"No," Krieger said.

"Amateurs," Cheryl pouted.

"The purses are good," Pam said as she indicated the large sheet bag. "And we got some other small junk."

"I got a purse," Lana indicated the purse on her arm. "A necklace and a small jewelry box. It looked pretty. Hey that bitch tried to frame me for murder! I deserve something pretty!"

"Totally not judging," Ray shrugged. "My bathrobe in there?"

"Yes," Lana said.

"Speaking of not judging," Cyril rolled his eyes.

"Let's check the study next," Lana suggested indicating the door with her thumb.

She opened the door and turned on the lights. "Damn…"

The entire study was a mess. "Looks like the cops already searched for all the good stuff," Pam remarked.

"Well maybe they left behind some stamps or something?" Cyril suggested. Everyone looked at him. "What? Stamps are expensive."

"He has a point," Pam admitted. "Stamps are damn expensive. Before we moved to California I used to get mine from the office."

"Me too," Krieger nodded.

"Well let's look anyway," Lana sighed.

"You think there might be some kind of hidden safe in this room?" Pam asked.

"If there is," Krieger pulled out a small device. "This little do-dad I made will find it. I call it the Krieger Safe Finder 300! When you want to find a safe you forgot you had!"

"Krieger," Lana sighed as Krieger looked around with the device. "The cops already searched this entire mansion top to bottom. Including this office. There's no way they missed a safe hidden or otherwise."

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Found it!" Krieger called out as he stood in front of a painting of Veronica Deane in her younger years.

"Holy shit!" Lana gasped.

"Are you **serious?** " Cyril gasped.

"Yup, yup, yup…" Krieger took down the painting to reveal a safe. "Ray if you would do the honors?"

"This looks easy," Ray said as he looked at the safe and started working on it. He opened it immediately. "Hell, Shapiro's was harder."

"What's inside?" Pam asked.

"Well from what I can see," Ray looked in. "There's money inside. And some kind of folder."

"How much?" Lana asked.

"At least a grand," Cyril whistled as he took the money.

"Why are **you** taking the money?" Pam snapped.

"Because I'm the head of the agency!" Cyril snapped.

"Only when Ms. Archer's not here!" Pam retorted. "And since she's not…Never mind."

"Okay fine," Lana said. "Any money you find give to Cyril and he will hold onto it. And when we get back to the agency we'll divide it **equally.** Got it?"

"Sounds fair," Cyril admitted.

"Also, we are not telling Ms. Archer about this right?" Pam asked.

"Duh!" Ray and Cheryl said at the same time.

"She'd want a cut," Ray scoffed.

"You snooze, you lose!" Cheryl agreed. "Ray you have to hand over the 55 cents."

"I'll try to hide my disappointment," Ray said sarcastically.

"What's in the folder?" Krieger asked.

"Open it!" Pam cheered.

"I'm **doing** that," Ray took it out and opened it. "It looks like a letter. Dear Ellis, if you are reading this then I am dead."

"Well hope springs eternal," Cheryl grumbled.

"I am writing this to tell you that if I am dead," Ray added. "You don't get a dime. Drop dead, asshole."

"Mission accomplished," Pam quipped.

"Well that's a whole lot of nothing in the clue department," Cyril groaned as he looked around the study. "Maybe there's another secret compartment? Maybe one of these books is secretly a lever to a secret tunnel?"

"But if there is which one?" Lana asked.

"Oh there's an **easy way** to find out!" Cheryl quipped. She went to the side of the bookcase. "Pam help me push it over!"

"Hang on…" Lana began. "Pam! Cheryl! NO!"

WHAM!

The others barley dodged the falling books and bookcase. "This one doesn't have a secret passage," Cheryl said innocently.

"No shit," Lana glared at her.

"Keep it down!" Ray nervously looked around.

"Who's going to hear?" Pam asked as she looked through the desk. "There's nobody but two knocked out guards for miles!"

"Still there is such a thing as stealth…" Cyril told her.

"Not with this bunch," Pam looked through the desk. "YES! I found it!"

"Found what?" Lana asked.

"I found stamps!" Pam waved some booklets.

"How many?" Cyril asked.

"Three booklets worth," Pam showed him. "And these are the forever kind so they'll last no matter how many times the price goes up."

"Score!" Cyril grinned. Everyone else looked at him. "Once again, stamps are expensive!"

"Why don't you take the paper clips while you're at it?" Lana asked snidely.

"Maybe I **will?** " Cyril snapped as he went through the desk and grabbed several items. " **And** the stapler! And **staples** that go with it! And the **rubber bands**!"

"Oooh, stealing _office supplies,"_ Lana mocked. "Cyril you're such a **bad boy."**

"You know…?" Cyril glared at her.

"Well I need some new pens and pencils so…" Krieger went to grab some.

"Me too!" Cheryl nodded. "And that paperweight looks nice."

"I could use a new desk lamp," Krieger added.

"I could use some more scrap paper," Cyril added. "And I need pens and pencils too."

"Why don't we just take the whole damn desk while we're at it?" Ray groaned.

Everyone looked at him. "Well…." Pam began.

"Sarcastically!" Ray snapped. "I was being **sarcastic!"**

"Still…" Pam looked at the desk.

"Nah too wide," Krieger shrugged. "Let's just take all the stuff in the desk!"

"That would be a lot easier to carry," Cyril agreed.

"It's not just me, is it?" Lana sighed to Ray.

"No, it is not," Ray shook his head. "Hey y'all save me some pens too!"

"Apparently it is," Lana groaned to herself as the gang raided the desk.

Soon the gang were back in the hallway again. "Hey we got some free office supplies!" Cyril protested as he carried a large handbag full of stolen supplies. "Anything to stretch the budget is good in my book!"

"I still say we should have burned the desk," Cheryl pouted.

"We are **not** burning the desk!" Lana snapped. "We need to go. Ray!"

Ray went across the hall to check out the bathroom. "Ugh! This bathroom is so tacky!"

"I know, right?" Pam looked in. "Even my sister Edie has better taste. I do like the bath towels though."

"We'll take some to go," Ray nodded as they grabbed them.

"Krieger how much time do we have left before the guards wake up?" Lana asked.

"About an hour," Krieger checked his watch.

"Okay now for the actual vandalism for the evening," Ray smirked as he grabbed some toilet paper from the bathroom.

"Oh this is gonna be good," Pam grinned.

Twenty-five minutes later…

"I was right," Pam grinned as the gang looked outside to admire their handiwork. All of Veronica Deane's mansion was covered in toilet paper, eggs and whipped cream.

"You know this actually did make me feel better," Lana admitted. "I didn't think it would. But it did."

"This was one hell of a team building exercise," Ray grinned. "And a good workout for my bionics."

"Just like back in high school," Pam snorted.

"I'm surprised you guys didn't leave a flaming bag of dog turds on the front steps," Cyril remarked.

"I have something better," Krieger grinned. "I still had some of the Piggly's leavings and leave it at that."

"You had radioactive pig shit?" Lana's jaw dropped. "Is **that** what that smell was?"

"Trust me," Pam smirked. "It smells worse inside now!"

"That reminds me," Krieger frowned. "I probably should get the van washed when we get back. Both inside and out."

"Ewww…" Everyone shuddered.

"Can we go now?" Cyril asked nervously. "Before we get caught?"

"Hang on," Ray looked around. "Where's Cheryl?"

"Right here!" Cheryl walked over with a gas can.

"Cheryl?" Cyril narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing with a gas can?"

"An empty gas can!" Cheryl corrected.

"What do you mean by **empty?** " Cyril snapped. Then he smelled smoke. "Uh oh…"

"Oh yeah," Cheryl cackled. "HA HA HA! Take that Moron-ica Deane!"

"Come on!" Ray grabbed her and dragged her into the van. The others ran into the van. Pam got in the driver's seat and pealed out.

Cyril groaned. "Why is it that almost **every one** of our missions or outings ends up with a fire?"

"Not **every** mission," Cheryl corrected him. "Four out of five tops. Sometimes it's just an explosion or a very messy death."

"Speaking of which did anyone find any clues about Veronica Deane's whereabouts or who else was behind Long Water?" Lana asked. "Or who would have a motive to steal the disk in the first place?"

"Huh," Cyril blinked. "We really should have done that."

"I didn't even think of that," Krieger said.

"Me too," Ray added.

"Oh for the love of…" Lana fumed. "Some detective agency we are!"

"And did **you** think of it while we were there?" Cyril snapped.

"Well…" Lana paused.

"Exactly!" Cyril snapped.

"HA!" Pam snapped.

"So don't blame us Holly Hindsight!" Cyril added.

"Man, we really suck at our jobs," Cheryl laughed.

"Unless the job is burglary," Krieger added. "We're good at that."

"Oh god," Lana groaned. "I just realized we've made more money committing crimes than solving them!"

"Well maybe that's something we can fall back on?" Pam suggested. "Because we are not that good at being detectives."

"Oh, I don't know," Krieger remarked. "I can think of some people who are worse than we are."

"What do you mean?" Lana asked.

"Guess who the cops left to guard the mansion were?" Krieger smirked.

Meanwhile back at the mansion…Parked across the street was a familiar unmarked police car…

Detectives Dietrich and Harris were sound asleep, snoring in their cars. Then they started to wake up.

"What time is it?" Detective Harris moaned.

"Too early to ask what time it is," Detective Dietrich yawned.

"Stupid captain," Detective Harris groaned. "Punishing us by making us watch Veronica Deane's mansion. Like it's our fault she got away."

"Man, this is a boring gig if **both** of us fell asleep," Detective Dietrich yawned. "Not like I didn't need some Z's anyway."

"I don't know why there needs to be someone guarding the mansion in the **first place** …" Detective Harris yawned. "Deane's not gonna…Do you smell smoke?"

"Yeah I smell…WHAT THE HELL?" Detective Dietrich shouted as he looked out his rear-view window. "OH NO! NO! NO! NO!"

"What?" Detective Harris asked. He looked behind him and saw the mansion. "Holy shit!"

The two police detectives jumped out of the car and looked at the damage. "There's toilet paper **everywhere**!" Detective Dietrich shouted. "And whipped cream too? Aw man!"

"Oh yeah **that's** a shame," Detective Harris glared at him. "Not to mention the huge **fire** in the back!"

"Oh, that is **not good!"** Detective Dietrich gulped. "Not good! Not good at all! What do we do?"

"Well this is just off the top of my head," Detective Harris said sarcastically. "But we could…CALL THE GOD DAMN FIRE DEPARTMENT!"

"But if they come here they'll see this mess!" Detective Dietrich shouted. "We could get in trouble!"

"Not as much trouble if we let the damn mansion burn to the **ground!"** Detective Harris shouted. "While we were supposed to be **guarding it!"**

"Good point," Detective Dietrich gulped. "Who would set Veronica Deane's house on fire?"

"In this town who **wouldn't** set Deane's house on fire?" Detective Harris shouted. "That's a **shorter list**!"

"Aw man," Detective Dietrich groaned. "We are so going to get yelled at over this!"

"You **think?** " Detective Harris groaned. "What the hell is that smell?"

"That's the **smoke**!" Detective Dietrich snapped. "From the **fire!"**

"No, it's something else…" Detective Harris wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. If I didn't know better I'd swear it smells like pig shit. Ugh…Make that **burning** pig shit!"

"I'm starting to think we're not that good at being police detectives," Detective Dietrich groaned.

"I'm starting to think that fire looks weird," Detective Harris blinked. "Does that fire look green to you?"

"Whoever did this really hated her," Detective Dietrich groaned.

"Again, that's pretty much **everyone** in this town," Detective Harris grumbled. "What the hell is that smell? And shouldn't you be calling this in?"

"Now?" Detective Dietrich asked.

"No idiot," Detective Harris glared at him. "After the entire mansion burns down…What the hell did I just step in? And why is it **glowing**?"

"Oh, we are so going to be busted down to desk duty for this…" Detective Dietrich groaned as he got his phone. "OH MY GOD!"

"What?" Detective Harris looked at him.

"I just remembered!" Detective Dietrich groaned. "There were some forever stamps in Veronica Deane's office I forgot to take!"

His partner glared at him. "What?" Detective Dietrich asked. "Stamps are expensive."


End file.
